


Inseparable

by static_abyss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Gen, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5505815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/static_abyss/pseuds/static_abyss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is how it starts.</p><p>There are two boys glaring at each other from across the sandbox at the playground. The leaves overhead are a mixture of orange, red, and faded yellow, and the wind is blowing particles of sand into the boys' eyes. </p><p>Scott is the first boy. Stiles is the second.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inseparable

**Author's Note:**

> For scott-mccall-is-my-jingleking @ tumblr, even though now they are actual-trashbag-living-in-the-snow @ tumblr. HAPPY HOLIDAYS :D
> 
> Detailed warnings at the bottom.

This is how it falls apart.

Stiles is a boy with white skin that only ever looks pink two ways. 

One, when he's mad at Scott, his jaw twitching, and his hands fists at his side. And two, when Scott is standing in front of him, hands in Stiles's hair, and their lips so close Scott can almost feel the heat between them. Scott's hands are trembling and there's a fire roaring in his heart.

Scott wants to lean forward and kiss him, but Stiles has never looked at him this way before, and Scott isn't sure he can handle the unfamiliarity there. 

 

This is how it starts.

There are two boys glaring at each other from across the sandbox at the playground. The leaves overhead are a mixture of orange, red, and faded yellow, and the wind is blowing particles of sand into the boys' eyes. 

Scott is the first boy. He stands with his hands to his side, sand falling from his thick, wild, brown hair. The other boy has skin so white, Scott has to ask his mother if the boy is okay.

"People look a lot of different ways," Melissa says.

But Scott has only ever seen the dark brown skin of his grandmother's wrinkled face, and the lighter brown of his mother's arms. He has a father, but his father's skin color doesn't matter anymore. Scott hasn't seen him in a long time.

The boy in front of Scott threw sand in his hair when Scott accidentally stepped on his sand castle. When Scott saw him, the "sorry" already halfway out of his mouth, Scott thought he was seeing a ghost. But there's a healthy flush across the boy's cheeks now, and Scott thinks maybe he should always make him angry.

The boy gets up, sticks his hand out and says, "Sorry about your hair, but you stepped on my sandcastle. My name's Stiles."

"Scott," Scott says. 

He can hear his mother trying not to laugh behind him. 

 

This is the problem with Scott's plan: he likes Stiles.

So Scott settles for teasing words and joking insults, and the flush on Stiles's cheeks is there whenever Scott teases too much. Scott always watches Stiles's eyes though, hazel and easy to read. Stiles is never angry. Not really.

"You suck," Stiles says, once. 

He's sprawled out on his back, on a rock, next to Scott. Stiles stares at the sky, a bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand. He offers Scott the bottle, but Scott's father drank and hurt his mother, and Scott would never do anything to hurt Stiles. 

"No, thank you," Scott says.

"Whatever," Stiles says. "I can drink enough for the both of us."

Scott takes him home, Stiles's body a warm solid heat against Scott. He can't think of a moment where he was ever cold when Stiles was with him.

 

This is how Scott ruins it.

In the parking lot of Deaton's clinic, he takes Stiles's face in his hands and kisses him.

Scott's world is falling apart, and the skin in the middle of his stomach aches with remembered pain. He can almost feel the hole where Theo's claws went through, but that doesn't hurt as much as the hatred he saw on Liam's face, or the disgust he sees in Stiles's face now.

The world is cold and so heavy Scott thinks he'll fall with the weight of it, and Stiles has never looked so pale. He's still, the yellow light from the streetlight seeming to slide off his skin. 

_Ghost_.

The word echoes in Scott's memory. It's funny, he thinks, how that's the first word he ever thought of to describe Stiles, and how that word has never fit Scott more perfectly. 

"I'm losing everything," Scott says, because he's always told Stiles the truth.

"Yeah," Stiles says, viciously. "You are."

Losing everything would be okay, if only Scott could do things properly. But he can't even die the right way, not even when it was the only thing he was sure he wanted. 

"I'm sorry," Scott says.

"For what?" Stiles asks, scoffing. "For not believing me about Theo? For not saving my dad? You think a sorry is going to fix everything?"

Scott takes a deep breath, the tears a sting along his nose. They're heavy in his eyes, but he blinks them away.

"No," he says. "I'm not sorry about any of that."

Stiles says nothing.

"I'm sorry that your dad is in the hospital," Scott says. "But that wasn't my fault. I didn't know."

Stiles grits his teeth, his hands shaking where he's holding them in fists along his side.

 _I wanted to die_ , Scott wants to tell him. _And I have to live with that._

He looks up at Stiles, hazel eyes that have always been so easy to read. Stiles isn't angry at him. Not really.

"I'm sorry," Scott says.

"For what?" Stiles says, his exhale shaky as his entire body relaxes.

Scott shrugs, takes two steps forward, and slides his hands into Stiles's hair. 

"I don't know," he says.

This close, Scott can feel the heat radiating off of Stiles, can see the faint pink on his cheeks, and the spread of his eyelashes. 

"You're warm," Scott says, and then he kisses him.

 

This is how it begins.

There are two boys in the woods.

One of them is sitting down on a large rock, Beacon Hills spread out in front of him, and the wind ruffling his dark brown hair. This boy holds the world on his shoulders, and he sits hunched in on himself, shaking in his borrowed sweater even though he isn't supposed to feel the cold.

This boy is Scott McCall.

The second boy is lying on the rock, his head in Scott's lap, his smile wide and fond as he stares up at Scott's messy hair. This boy has to learn what it means to be human, but he is content to lie there on the cold rock and let Scott teach him.

This boy is Stiles Stilinski.

They have been inseparable since they were five years old.

**Author's Note:**

> Canon compliant means that there is mention of Scott dying. Also mentions of Scott wanting to die. No actual in depth descriptions of Scott dying. Everything is just briefly mentioned.


End file.
